


Prohibition in curls.

by timepatty



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fluff, Lydia is a perfect Goddess, Lydia/Self actualization OTP, i don't really know where this is going, this will probably end up Allison/Lydia once Jackson's gone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-21
Updated: 2013-07-01
Packaged: 2017-12-15 16:36:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/851673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timepatty/pseuds/timepatty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia Martin is perfect, and she knows it.<br/>Lydia Martin is missing something, and she knows it.<br/>Lydia Martin is being left in the dark, and she knows it.</p>
<p>Lydia Martin is having none of your shit, and you better know it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prohibition in curls.

**Author's Note:**

> I just really wanted to explore Lydia's character.
> 
> It's been a while since I watched S1, so if there's mistakes in the cannon, I declare it to be an AU.
> 
> Also: If there are mistakes, feel free to point them out.  
> Also: Feel free to harass me for updates here or at dibsonthescifi.tumblr.com. 
> 
> Title from "Flapper Girl" by The Lumineers.

Lydia Martin had moved to Beacon Hills when she was thirteen. She waltzed into the small city in a blaze of lip gloss and fashionable boots. She was going to take over this city, winning over one person at a time. She already had one friend, a guy she met on the internet, someone called Danny.

They had met on a LGBT forum a few months ago when she pitched in on a conversation about possible ways to make muggle versions of itching powder. Realising that she was moving to Beacon Hills in under six months was not one of the reasons that the decided to message him (as well as his charm, wit and intelligence). _Not at all_.

So Lydia was bi. Big deal. Okay, maybe it was to her parents, but that was more of a who, what and _where_ problem, rather than a homophobia one. Still, Lydia Martin was single, pretty, and in a new town; she had options. Many options. Then, through Danny, she met Jackson Whittemore, alpha male and uber-jock. And, well. She had him wrapped around her finger within two weeks and set herself up as queen of the school.

They had become a couple easily enough. His stubbornness and ego complemented hers perfectly. But the more she hung around him, the more she saw. Lydia had always been good at seeing the things that others didn’t, especially the things they tried to hide. For instance, Jackson always made sure to get perfect grades, yet when an English mark came in at a B, he seemed… off. A few weeks ago she wouldn’t have noticed the slight tightening of the mouth or the worried pinch of his eyebrows, even as he held his head up and strutted around the cafeteria. She tried to get him to talk about it at lunch, but he cut her off with a “it’s fine, Lydia. Drop it.” But according to Danny, he almost hurt himself lifting later on that night.

She made sure to stick by him after that. To coo appreciatively at his successes, and strut around as though they were her own. It eased some of the tension in his shoulders, built up after long nights studying or a particularly brutal session at the gym. When they were making out on her bed before her parent’s came home she’d sometimes stop to press her head into his neck, tightening her arms around his chest. She made him think that he was doing it for her, that she was the one who needed the closeness. He’d tighten his arms around her lower back in response, and they’d lie like that for a while, just breathing.

A few years passed and everything was going according to plan. She and Jackson had formed into a formidable power couple, she had a strong friendship with Danny, a perfect figure (even if her legs were a touch too short), and perfect grades. Of course being the girlfriend of someone like Jackson had its downfalls; she saw how the other girls treated her and the (understandable) general dislike from some of the students at Beacon Hills High. It wasn’t that she liked being hated, but she knew that it was just high school. She’d be out of there in a few years, and never see half of them again. Lydia Martin had direction in her life, and supreme popularity.

Yet, sometimes as she sat down to watch yet another football game, wedged between Danny and Jackson on the couch, she couldn’t help but feel that there was a part of her life that was lacking. She pulled on an ‘interested’ face, grabbed a handful of (low fat, less salt) popcorn, and began to go through a mental checklist to find out what was wrong. But no amount of self-actualization or task-mastering could get to an answer. She threw herself down on her bed and stared up at the pale ceiling. She relaxed into the soft bedclothes and tried to take her mind off the feeling. Her walls were due for a repaint soon, and she idlly amused herself by mentally picking different colours. Of course with her mother thinking that she could moonlight as an interior decorator, she wouldn’t get much choice, but perhaps it would be a nice fuchsia instead of the plain, powdery, purple.

The feeling didn’t go away overnight. It was an odd feeling. Not quite a feeling of loss or disappointment, but a poignant dissatisfaction. Lydia tried to work it out, running faster, shopping more, and studying harder. She briefly took up knitting and had a briefer stint with a violin. She learnt French. And German. And improved her archaic Latin (you never know when these things would come in handy, after all).

The newly sixteen year old Lydia Martin took extra time getting ready for the first day of the new year, picking a fabulous outfit to match the crispness of the fall outside, and dabbing on a perfume that echoed and mingled sublimely with the smell of earth that hung around this time of year.

She had just sat down at her desk and arranged her notebook when the door of the class room opened and she walked in. And _sweet holy mother of Mac_ was this girl like balm to her aching soul. The sweetest dimples, doe eyes and the most perfect outfit imaginable. This girl was going to be her new best friend. It wasn’t like Jackson and Danny weren’t enough, it was just that she was missing some female companionship, she decided. It wasn’t something she’d ever really had, apart from vague acquaintances. No one to do all the ‘typical girl’ things that she’d read in all of the glossy magazines. Not that it ever bothered her, of course. She had a plan, and a boyfriend and _Danny_ , why would she need more?

Still, as the girl smiled prettily at something Scott McCall said, maybe this new girl would be exactly what she needed.


	2. blunt thou the lion's paws.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smooth seas don't stay that way.

Lydia talked to Allison by the lockers, complementing her on her new coat. “And you’re my new best friend” slipped out. She hoped it sounded casual. It elected a laugh from the brunette, and that was enough.

Unfortunately, someone else was trying to encroach on Allison. Lydia hadn’t really had that much interaction with the boy before, considering that his best friend was constantly staring at her and making weird comments, _all the freaking time._ He was a nobody, a bench warmer on the lacrosse team, with one friend. Still, she could see where the attraction came from; he was smart enough and earnest in an endearing way, if you liked that. He was a charming Disney prince, which was perfect for Allison, the Disney princess that she was. But there was no taking anything away from Lydia Martin, and he had to realise that.

When McCall made first line, she knew something was up. No way could he get that good that quickly. She discussed it with Jackson and Danny after school that day, as they lay around in Jackson’s living room with smoothies.

“Maybe he was just working hard through the summer?” Danny offered.

“Doesn’t he work full time at the vet’s, though?”  She countered. She had taken Prada in a few weeks ago to get her shots and remembered seeing him there.

“Well what else could it be? “Jackson scoffed “Magic?”

Danny looked thoughtful for a second. “Maybe, _maybe_ , not magic. But maybe something else?”

“like steroids? McCall’s a goodie good; he wouldn’t stoop so low”.

“yeah, but how do we know? Maybe it’s some male ego power trip? Maybe he feels like he has something to prove to someone?”

“Read that in a magazine Lydia?”

“Oh shut it”. She nudged him with her shoulder.  “All I’m saying is that something’s different. It really doesn’t concern me one tiny bit, but I figured, since you’re the reigning lacrosse champion, it might be your position he’s after.”

“As if. Let him try.”

She rolled her eyes internally, but let the matter slip. They settled down to watch the next episode of _True Blood_ (much to Jackson’s dismay) and she rested her head against his shoulder, smiling as his arm snaked around her waist.

Yet, it seems that Scott McCall did not get the meaning behind her extra cold stares. She thought that after he had abandoned Allison at Jackson’s party, that he would never get another chance with her. It seemed too obvious a decision for Lydia to even think of talking to Allison about it, but apparently she had agreed to give him another try.

Apparently they had _kissed._

That was it. This was war.

Some part of Lydia knew she was being rather irrational about this whole thing. Just because she was dating Scott, didn’t mean that she would lose Alison. In fact, maybe McCall wasn’t too bad? Lydia was nothing but practical, so she decided to test out her theory by inviting them on a group date.

Okay, so maybe she shouldn’t have been so threating about it, and maybe those lacrosse boys were a tad _fictional_. No one was touching Allison except her. In a friendly way. Of course.

Bowling was… interesting. McCall was being his usual self, missing half the pins while she and Jackson (naturally) got perfect scores. This was it, she thought, we’re obviously the superior specimens here. McCall couldn’t compete.  

But then Allison went and pulled one of her magical Disney-princess tricks and he suddenly improved ten thousand percent. Lydia couldn’t help but pull a bitch-face at that, matching Jackson’s jealous scowl.

After that things go from bad to worse. Jackson starts getting weirdly contemplative looks, shutting her out. She finally gets him to agree on a movie night, just the two of them. They drove to the local video store.  Jackson might be super-rich, but his house had surprisingly bad internet. Then again, he wasn’t so good with technology that wasn’t simple point and click. He only had a smartphone for posturing; he didn’t even know it could go onto the internet when he brought his first model.

But when she was in waiting in the car for Jackson to return, something… attacked. She thought she had managed to get a video of it at the time, but when she looked on her phone there was no trace of it. She was so out of it with those pills, her limbs felt like weights and her mind felt so sluggish.

She still had nightmares though. Glowing red eyes and a smooth, seductive voice that chilled her to the bone. Allison with a crossbow, of all things, while a pack of wolves howled at the rising full moon. She woke up trembling and close to tears. She knew about the animal attacks, of course she did. That was probably where it came from. Maybe she should get a Taser? There was, of course, a can of pepper spray attached to her keys, and six years of gymnastics left her pretty strong, but nothing seemed to shake this feeling of utter helplessness that had occurred from the nightmares. It felt like something big was about to happen.

It angered her, too. She hated when things were out of her control. As a little kid she would dress up in her nicest clothes, only to find it was raining outside. She tried to build a weather machine out of an alarm clock, several of the best pieces of silverware and a roll of duct tape. Naturally, it didn’t work, but it wasn’t until several years later, when she found out how weather actually worked, that she gave up on that dream.  Now Jackson was distant, Allison seemed more interested in Scott, and Jackson was sliding away from her.

‘Fuck this shit” she muttered, reapplying her lip-gloss as she got ready for school.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired heavily by 8tracks.com/pitamullark/yeah-girl


End file.
